


The Red You're Wearing (Fades To Grey)

by ninjamcgarrett



Series: Your Beating Heart [4]
Category: Football RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Cuddling, Established Relationship, FIFA World Cup 2014, Fix-It, Gerlonso - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, World Cup, i had to write a fix-it guys, the game today was just too much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-19
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2018-02-05 06:58:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1809430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninjamcgarrett/pseuds/ninjamcgarrett
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Spain's loss to Chile, Xabi goes radio silent and Stevie worries. That is, until Xabi shows up at Stevie's room.</p><p>Follow-up to "Where The Flowers Grow".</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Red You're Wearing (Fades To Grey)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [griners](https://archiveofourown.org/users/griners/gifts).



> Written for Diana for her birthday. Fluff and feels, right darlin'? Well this one is all feels. Enjoy! <3

Night had descended on the training camp and all was quiet. The waves crashed against the beach outside Stevie’s room. The air was full of tension, making him fidget. It had been a hellish day more than anything. Training had been fine, boring even. Watching the Spanish match though – that had been torture. He had tried to call Xabi, but after reaching the midfielder’s voicemail twice, Stevie realized that Xabi wasn’t in the mood to talk. Stevie got that; God only knew how many times he had disappeared after bad losses. It still worried him though; they were a team, the two of them, and he loved Xabi. Everything in him screamed for Stevie to go to Xabi, find him, comfort him, make the pain better. If Xabi came to him asking him to run away together, he would do it, Stevie thought.

After reading the same page three times, Stevie muttered a curse and gave up, tossing the book onto the nightstand. A knocking sound corresponded with his book landing on the teak wood of the table by his bed. With one eyebrow raised, Stevie picked up and dropped the book once more. The knocking came again. Just as he was picking up the book a third time, he heard a soft whistle from beyond the French doors leading to the beach.

Leaving the book, Stevie pulled the curtains back. “Well that would certainly explain the knocking,” he muttered ruefully.

Xabi stood there, hands shoved deep in his pockets, avoiding looking up at Stevie. The Englishman opened the door, ushering Xabi inside. Once the door was closed, Xabi turned to face him, still not looking up.

“I – I should have called.”

“No,” Stevie replied softly. “It’s okay, honestly. You needed some space, some time.”

Xabi looked up then and Stevie’s breath caught in his throat.Nothing in this world could wrench Stevie’s heart the way Xabi crying did; every inch of him cried out in sympathy, begging Stevie to fix whatever had made Xabi cry. He remembered only once before seeing Xabi crying; it had been after he had broken his foot. Now, his eyes shone with tears and Stevie could tell that it was taking everything left in Xabi not to openly sob.

In two long strides, he crossed the room and pulled Xabi into his arms, holding him tight. Stevie threaded one hand through Xabi’s short hair, cradling the midfielder’s head to his chest while wrapping his other arm around Xabi’s back. A deep, shuddering breath sounded somewhere in the vicinity of where Xabi had buried his head in Stevie’s chest, his hands clenched tight around the fabric of Stevie’s shirt. Stevie just stood there, holding Xabi, letting the other man cry softly as Stevie murmured soothing words in English and Spanish. He buried his nose in Xabi’s hair, inhaling deep.

“I wanted this, Stevie,” Xabi finally murmured. “I wanted it so bad. Like I wanted the title with Liverpool, La Decima with Madrid.” He sniffed, the sound muffled by Stevie’s shirt. “It was like a deep, insistent ache inside me. And – and _I failed_.”

Stevie tightened his grip on Xabi, humming _You’ll Never Walk Alone_ , knowing it was the only thing possible of soothing Xabi now. Even though the midfielder now played for another club, for some reason Liverpool’s anthem was still the one thing that helped Xabi when he was homesick for Stevie and Liverpool or when he was upset. Eventually, Xabi quieted, his breathing leveling out. He nosed into Stevie’s shoulder, letting out a sigh.

“I – I wish this were all a dream, Stevie. Never did I imagine this would happen.”

Stevie pressed a kiss to the side of Xabi’s head. “Me either, love, me either.”

Xabi was quiet for a while, arms now wrapped around his lover, soaking in the calming presence of Stevie surrounding him.

“Guess we don’t have to worry about our teams meeting anymore,” Xabi managed with a hiccup after crying so much.

They both laughed softly and fell quiet again, Stevie rubbing soothing circles on Xabi’s back.

“I wish I could do something to make it better,” Stevie murmured.

A moment of silence passed before Xabi answered, voice clear but still quiet. “Run away with me.”

A snort escaped Stevie at that. “Now why did I have a feeling you would say that,” he responded with a soft chuckle. After a pause, he asked, “Where would we go?”

“Somewhere with a no extradition rule?” Xabi offered hopefully, earning a laugh from both of them. “Home. I want to run away – to our home," he said finally. "To Liverpool. Just the two of us. We could break into Anfield at night and play football, just the two of us. We could just watch Netflix all day in bed.”

“Mmm, I hope that’s not the only thing we’d do in bed,” Stevie said.

Xabi’s face finally emerged, peeking up at Stevie, eyes rimmed red. He let his chin rest on Stevie’s shoulder as he sighed.

“It’d be nice, wouldn’t it?”

“Aye, it would.”

Stevie gently massaged Xabi’s scalp with one hand, smiling when Xabi leaned into his touch. He tipped Xabi’s chin up so that he could kiss the midfielder.

“Today sucked, Xabs, but tomorrow will be better, and so will the day after that, and the day after that one. And when this is all over?” He waited until Xabi was looking at him. “We’ll go home, I promise.”

Xabi sighed happily. “I’m home already. You’re my home.”

“Ooo, what a nice thing to say,” Stevie said with a small laugh, ducking when Xabi swatted at him good-naturedly.

Xabi leaned up to kiss Stevie. “Thank you,” he murmured. “I needed this – needed you. I’d be lost without you.”

“As I would without you,” Stevie responded, taking Xabi by the hand and leading him to the bed. “C’mon, love, let’s sleep.”

Stevie held Xabi close through the night, keeping the dreams of dashed hopes and heartbreak at bay.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Brendan James' "Run Away".


End file.
